Legally Tifa
by punkiemonkie
Summary: Tifa makes a simple change to the way she looks, but it’s enough to drive Cloud completely crazy, and maybe not entirely in a good way. --Oneshot. Cloud/Tifa--


**(A/N) **So…I've gone from disappearing from Fanfiction altogether for several months, to coming back and posting a story that I wasn't even planning on writing before. Strange. O_o I'm hoping that everyone will get the reference in the title to the movie _Legally Blonde,_ but if not I suppose I just said it. :P Also, for what I believe might be the first time for me in a FFVII story, I've given an original name to a character, so be prepared for that leap of faith. Qwi-Xux was kind enough to offer to let me use the name that she uses for the moogle girl, and even though I love it, I decided to take a chance and come up with my own instead. :3

Anyway, this is told from Cloud's perspective, and it takes place some time after _Advent Children _and/or _Advent Children Complete_. (No spoilers for the latter though) Trying to decide what genres to choose for this one drove me nuts, but in the end I really didn't think the humor in this was a more prominent theme than either the romance or family, so…there you go. Oh, and since this has now become my longest FFVII oneshot, I decided to separate the whole thing into scenes to make it easier to read. ;)

**Legally Tifa**

My eyes blink open slowly, and I instinctively turn my face away from the dim light that is managing to filter in through the curtains covering my window. A quick glance over at the clock by my bed tells me that it's just past seven in the morning, but today is Saturday, so I don't need to rush out of bed and hurry to leave for work. It's quiet in the house, so I think it's pretty safe to assume that Tifa and the kids are probably all still in bed. I'm usually the first one up though, so this isn't really a surprise.

After a moment I decide that I should probably go ahead and get up, because if I don't I'll risk dozing off and then being reawakened in an hour or so by two overly excited children. A smile tugs at the side of my mouth from the thought, but I slide out of bed and go about the task of looking for something to wear anyway. It only takes me a few minutes to get dressed, and then I move over towards my window and yank the curtains open, wincing when the bright morning light reaches my eyes.

As I make my way out of my room and into the hallway, I find myself being almost thankful for Tifa's newly created rule that all of us need to leave our shoes by the back door so we won't track dirt inside, because even though the wood is cold beneath my feet, it's much easier to creep across the floorboards without my typical clunky boots on. I go to Denzel and Marlene's room first, with the intention of checking on them, and after I find them both sleeping soundly I continue down the hall towards Tifa's room.

When we first started living here Tifa used to share her bathroom with Marlene, but after we added Denzel to our family we decided to let the kids have a bathroom to themselves, which left Tifa and I sharing the other one. I've never complained about the arrangement, because Tifa's bathroom is always clean and full of things that smell wonderful, but the only problem is that it's connected to her bedroom, so I have to try and sneak through there without waking her up whenever I'm up early or back really late from deliveries.

I hold my breath unconsciously as I push her door open as carefully as I am able, and when I peer inside I am not only relieved to find that I haven't woken her up, but I'm amused by the sight of her. She's completely buried beneath her covers, so much that the only things that tell me it is in fact Tifa under there and not just a bunch of pillows is the sound of her slow, even breathing, and a few fingers of her left hand that are visible where they're resting on the pillow above her head. A small smile crosses my face in response to her ridiculous sleeping position, but I still take care to make my footsteps as quiet as possible as I move towards the door to the bathroom.

I'm glad that my entry into her room didn't wake her, because that's something that I would have never been able to pull off before. Not too long ago both of us used to be extremely light sleepers, and we would get jolted awake by even the tiniest noise; a side effect of having to train your body to be prepared for battle at any second. We lived that way for a long time, and I suppose neither of us have fully adjusted to being able to sleep without that worry yet. This change is a start though, and it makes me feel good to know that Tifa can sleep even just a little bit more peacefully than she did before.

When I'm safely inside the bathroom, with the door shut to block out any noise I might make, I begin to go about my morning routine. Since my hair pretty much looks the same all the time and no matter what I do to it, it only takes me a few seconds to run my fingers through it to make sure nothing is sticking dramatically out of place. Tifa says that I have perpetual bed-head, but she likes it for some unexplainable reason, so I guess that's just fine with me. I brush my teeth next, and after washing my face I bring my hand up to my cheek, running my fingertips over the short, prickly blond hairs growing there. I decide that I probably need to shave, because I know Tifa will complain about it later if I don't, and I'd rather not have her refusing to get close to me because I'm scratching her.

With everything done I head back out of the bathroom and past Tifa's bed once again, and I surprise myself by being able to make it through there both ways without disturbing her. By the time I have her door closed again my stomach is starting to make small rumbling noises, so I make my way downstairs to find something to eat. Tifa loves to cook, so I know she would be more than happy to make me breakfast if she was awake, but there's no way that I'm going to wake her up and ask her for that, so I opt for a bowl of cereal instead. I eat quickly, and when I'm done I make sure to wash all of my dishes and replace them in their proper place, because I know that Tifa won't be thrilled if I leave an extra mess for her to clean up when she's going to have all of the dishes from the bar customers to worry about today. The kids get in trouble for that a lot more often than I do, but I really don't feel like tempting fate.

The first thing on my list of things to do today is to fix the awful pinging noise that Fenrir's engine was making yesterday on my ride home from Kalm, so I head through the kitchen area, stopping by the back door to pull my boots on, and then out into the garage where I know my bike will be waiting for me. I spend the rest of the early morning tearing apart several components of the engine as I try to find the cause of the problem, and at around eight-thirty I hear Tifa and the kids come downstairs and into the kitchen.

I figured that Denzel and Marlene would probably get out of bed fairly early today, because we recently started opening the bar at ten-o-clock to serve the customers who like an early lunch, and the kids really enjoy helping to get the bar ready. I'm a bit surprised that Tifa is up at her normal time though, because even though she was already in bed by the time I got home after finishing my deliveries late last night, I remember her telling me that Yuffie was supposed to be coming to visit Edge for a few days. If she really _was_ here last night then Tifa probably had her hands full with trying to take care of the bar and the kids on top maintaining Yuffie, who is sometimes even harder to manage than Denzel and Marlene combined. I know Tifa enjoys Yuffie's company, but I don't understand how she can possibly handle all of that energy for any length of time.

I hear the door that leads out into the garage swing open then, and if I'm not getting pounced on by either of the kids, then I know it must be Tifa. Sure enough, the sound of her voice reaches me an instant later, even though I can't see her where I'm lying halfway beneath the belly of my motorcycle.

"Good morning," she greets me warmly. "I figured I'd find you out here," she adds, her voice turning teasing.

Tifa is one of the few people that I have ever met who is actually pleasant in the morning; something that I'm really thankful for. I know she must be tired from last night, because even if Yuffie didn't show up Fridays in Seventh Heaven are always really chaotic, but I'm glad that she seems to be in such a good mood. There's something a little odd about her tone of voice though, almost like she can see some joke that I'm failing to recognize. I brush the feeling off though, deciding that I must be imagining things.

"Morning Tifa," I call from behind the obstruction of my bike as I reach for the screwdriver lying beside me.

"Do you want breakfast?" she asks, sounding almost concerned that I might be starving out here. "I'm making pancakes for me and the kids."

This statement is enforced by the warm, buttery smell that suddenly wafts in from the kitchen and reaches my nose, and I start to regret filling myself up on that cereal.

"I'm fine," I tell her regretfully. "I've been up for awhile, so I got something to eat earlier."

"_Please_ tell me that you weren't eating that awful sugary cereal that the kids like," she says in an exasperated voice, and I can just imagine her putting her hands on her hips. I don't answer, so Tifa knows that she's hit the nail on the head. "Oh Cloud," she sighs in disbelief, sounding disappointed in me.

"I can live without a homemade breakfast for one day," I assure her. I try to keep my tone serious, but I can't help but be amused that she cares so much about what goes into my stomach.

Tifa sighs again, knowing that she can't win this one. "Just don't let Denzel and Marlene see you eating that junk food for breakfast," she warns me, sounding almost serious even though I know she's kidding. "I don't want them learning from your bad example."

I let out a short chuckle at that, and although I still can't see her, I can almost feel her smiling over at me before she shuts the door and disappears back inside the house. It was there again though, that strange sound in her voice like there's something funnier going on than just our conversation. This time I decide to keep that strange bit of information in the back of my mind, hoping that I'll be able to figure it out later.

xXxXx

I stay out in the garage for most of the morning, until I am finally able to locate and fix the problem with Fenrir's engine. When I'm completely satisfied with my work, I decide to go back inside to wash off all of the grease and dirt that has gotten all over my hands from taking my bike apart, and then see if Tifa needs any help with the bar. Denzel and Marlene like to help out with anything that they are able to on Saturdays and after school on weekdays, but this is one of the busiest days for Seventh Heaven, so I know Tifa could probably use an extra hand anyway, especially if Yuffie shows up to distract her.

While I don't see Tifa as I slip through the bar and towards the stairs, I just assume that she's probably off helping a customer somewhere, because the bar is already starting to get pretty crowded for lunchtime, and Denzel and Marlene seem to doing there best just to keep up with everything. The sink in the bar is obviously closer, but I choose to go upstairs and wash my hands in the bathroom instead, for fear of getting scolded by Tifa for getting grease in the sink where she washes dishes.

When my hands are clean again I start back towards the bar area, and on my way back down the stairs the sound of a familiar voice reaches my ears. Sure enough, when I get to the bottom of the stairwell I spot Yuffie sitting over on one of the barstools in front of the main counter. Yuffie isn't the one who draws my attention though; it's the woman that she's talking to. She has a thin, delicate looking figure and shimmering blonde hair that flows down past her shoulders. Yuffie seems to have her attention at the moment, so she's facing away from me where she's leaning against the bar, but even though I can't see her face there's something about the curve of her hips and the shape of her long legs that has me almost hypnotized.

A few seconds later I begin to realize that I'm standing here staring at her like an idiot, but even more than feeling foolish, I feel guilty. I have Tifa, and she's beautiful, so why am I helplessly ogling some blonde woman that I've never met when I have her? There's just something about her legs though... I can't imagine where I could have ever seen this woman before, because I'm fairly sure that she's not someone who is a regular at the bar, but I get the strangest feeling that I should know who those legs belong to.

Yuffie's voice suddenly being directed over at me breaks me out of my strange trance, although it's really not that welcome of a distraction.

"Well there he is!" Yuffie shouts over at me, sounding like she's been looking for me for some reason. "Cloud, come here," she beckons, waving her arm at me wildly in an attempt to call me over.

I frown at her, assuming that the only reason she could possibly want me to come over there is to introduce me to her blonde friend, which I want no part in. I already feel bad enough as it is for gawking at some other woman in the house that Tifa and I share together, and I don't need to add to that guilt by talking to her too, even if she _does_ know Yuffie. Just as I'm about to forget about Yuffie's invitation and walk away though, the blonde woman turns around to face me, and my jaw nearly hits the floor when it falls open in shock. Suddenly my abnormally strong attraction to this woman and the familiarity of her body shape all makes sense to me, because it's not some beautiful blonde stranger, it's Tifa.

As I stand there wide-eyed and struggling to close my mouth so I can form some sort of words past my surprise, Tifa's face breaks into an amused smile, and she seems to be enjoying my reaction. Even past my nearly paralyzing astonishment, it suddenly begins to occur to me that _this _must be the reason why Tifa sounded like she was in on some private joke while she was talking to me in the garage this morning. She was standing right in front of me looking like this, and I never even saw it.

"I was wondering what you'd do when you finally got to see it," Tifa says casually, and then her composure slips and a few giggles start to break free. "I don't think I've ever seen your face look quite like that before."

With that Tifa falls into a poorly contained fit of giggles, and although she tries in vain to hide it by covering her mouth, Yuffie is all too happy to join her.

"Yeah Cloud, you look like a fish out of water!" Yuffie says between her own laughter, not caring that the volume of her voice is surely attracting the attention of the customers.

Tifa is still trying to disguise the fact that she's laughing too, but she at least has the decency to jab Yuffie in the side with her elbow in an attempt to quiet her down. I can't imagine how ridiculous my face must look right now, but I can feel my eyes bulging out in disbelief at the sight before me, and I still haven't been able to fully close my gaping mouth, so 'ridiculous' is probably an understatement. I used to pride myself in being able to keep a cool, emotionless expression on my face no matter what was going on around me, but even if that was a habit that I still tried to keep up all the time, this just isn't something that I could have possibly gotten through that way.

Tifa is beginning to look kind of worried that I'm still standing here acting completely stupefied, so I force myself to form a sentence, asking her the first thing I can think of.

"What…what _happened_ to you?" I manage to choke out; pointing one finger vaguely up at her head that is now covered in foreign blonde hair instead of the dark brunette color that she's had for as long as I've known her, which is just about my whole life. I was able to handle her cutting her hair off to a much shorter length a few years ago, but this change is so dramatic and so sudden that it's hard to wrap my mind around all at once.

"Yuffie did it when she came over last night," Tifa explains, starting to look a little sympathetic for me now.

She probably had no idea that this would nearly give me a heart attack, but she failed to overlook the fact that we men are simple creatures, and we don't do well with change. Well, at least I don't. This information helps me regain some of my previously lost composure though, and I turn a disbelieving glare on Yuffie.

"_You _did this to her?" I demand, wondering what could possibly possess her to do something like this to Tifa's hair. What was wrong with the way it was?

Yuffie waves her hand at me dismissively, not seeming to be affected by my anger in the least. "Relax Cloud, the dye is only temporary," she explains nonchalantly, acting like I'm making a big deal out of nothing. "I think you're missing the point here though; doesn't Tifa look hot?!" Yuffie shouts, hopping off of the barstool she was sitting on and motioning dramatically towards Tifa to make her point.

"Yuffie!" Tifa hisses at her, seeming embarrassed because now just about everyone in the bar has their attention drawn to her.

"I was _trying _to help," she says defiantly, folding her arms across her chest. "The least Cloud could do is be grateful."

Yuffie turns to stick her tongue out at me then, but I can only sigh; her logic and her very vague definition of what 'helping' means never cease to confuse me. Sure I was practically drooling over Tifa a few minutes ago, but that didn't have anything to do with her hair color, and there's no way that I'd ever admit that to Yuffie.

Tifa ignores Yuffie's outburst and turns back towards me, and then I finally get a proper explanation for this mess. "I was telling Yuffie on the phone last week that it might be fun to try something different with my hair color, but I didn't expect it to turn out quite so…blonde," she explains, and I suddenly get the feeling that maybe I'm not the one who got the biggest shock from this whole ordeal. "I waited up last night to show you so, well, _this _wouldn't happen," Tifa continues, motioning towards me to indicate the current situation, "but I must have fallen asleep."

I sigh, deciding to stop trying to make sense of the whole thing and just accept it. I walk over to take a seat at the barstool on the far end of the counter, trying to use this moment to take a breather as Tifa moves behind the bar to help a customer and Marlene, who is trying to carry one too many glasses on a plastic serving tray, conveniently catches Yuffie's attention and causes her to go running across the room to lend her a hand. Maybe this really isn't such a big deal, especially if it's only temporary, but I still wish I could have at least gotten a little warning before they decided to surprise me like this.

When the customer Tifa was helping is gone, she turns her attention back to me again. "Are you going to be alright?" she asks seriously.

"I'm fine," I say, trying to sound convincing. "I'm just having a hard time taking it all in."

"It _is _just a hair color, Cloud," she reminds me playfully, trying to get me to lighten up.

"I know. It's just very…" I trail off, glancing over at her as I search for the correct way to describe it. "Different," I say finally, and then I shake my head as I continue. "You don't look like yourself."

She gives me a small, understanding smile, and then leans across the counter to kiss me on the cheek; at least that part of her hasn't changed. Tifa surveys the bar, and after seeming to decide that there isn't anyone who needs her immediate attention, she grabs a damp dish rag from near the sink and begins wiping down the surface of the bar with it. While she's working she explains the situation a little more thoroughly, and I can tell by her tone that I was probably right in thinking that Tifa was even more shocked than I was when she first saw her hair.

"It was a little too much of a dramatic change for me too," she says, frowning at a stubborn stain that is refusing to wipe clean. "The dye is supposed to come out after ten washes, but I think I'm going to try and get it all out tonight after Yuffie leaves. I'd rather have you be the only blond in the house." She adds the last part in a lighter tone, and looks up at me with a smile on her face.

I allow myself to smile back at her briefly, but something suddenly occurs to me that has me rethinking what I tried to tell myself earlier about this not being a big deal, even if it _does_ only last for today. I'm not blind, so I know all too well that the reason why a lot of Seventh Heaven's customers come here is to see Tifa. I'm sure by now they must all be well aware that she doesn't ever say yes to anyone who is bold enough to ask her out, but that doesn't ever seem to stop any of them from hitting on her. It's bad enough when she looks the way that she usually does, so I can only imagine how awful it's going to be today.

I'm not sure quite how to explain it, but there's just something about a woman with blonde hair that seems to make most men even more desperate to get her attention. I don't personally understand the appeal, but maybe that's just because I'm blond myself, or because I've grown up with a crush on Tifa who, at least until today, has always had dark hair. Whatever the reason is though, there's no denying that this strange attraction exists. I've seen it happen to other women in the bar before, but I've never had to deal with it happening to Tifa, so I know it's going to be one long, frustrating day.

Those thoughts prompt me to make the decision to spend the rest of the day down in the bar area, because while I know Tifa is perfectly capable of taking care of herself, the thought of leaving her alone like this all day still makes me feel uneasy. I help her out during the last part of the lunch rush, mostly doing dishes and cleaning the tables so Tifa can focus on helping the customers, but when the bar activity slows down I decide to bring the paperwork from the delivery service downstairs to work on, rather than doing it upstairs in my office like I usually do.

After retrieving all of the work I need, I situate myself at one of the booths in the corner between the front door and the bar where Tifa is usually standing behind the counter; the perfect place where I can monitor the whole bar area but maybe still get away with not looking too conspicuous. Most of the time Tifa catches on to my little schemes like this though, so she'll probably figure out what I'm up to before long.

xXxXx

As morning turns into afternoon business gradually becomes slower, and even after Yuffie decides that she needs to go and leaves us with one less person helping in the bar, eventually Tifa runs out of things for both of the kids to occupy themselves with. Denzel agrees to let Marlene continue to help Tifa with the few customers that are here at this time of day, and I'm not surprised when he starts over towards the booth where I'm still sitting.

"Can I help?" he asks, looking at the work spread out on the table hopefully.

I nod my head in agreement, scooting over on the bench to make room for him to sit beside me. It's not an unusual thing for Denzel to want to help me out with the delivery service, and I haven't really been getting much work done for the past few hours between trying to keep an eye on all of the single men in the bar and simultaneously attempting to avoid Tifa's curious glances, so the change of focus will probably be good for me.

"Want to help me sort through these?" I ask, giving Denzel a messy handful of receipts.

He nods eagerly as he takes them from my hand, seeming to be glad that I haven't already finished the task that he usually likes to do. We fall into an easy silence as we work together, and I find myself able to actually concentrate on the work for the first time today, rather than constantly trying to peek over at Tifa to see who is making another unnecessary fuss over her hair. I'm pretty sure that all of the customers who are here now are regulars though, and most of the tables are filled with families that have come in for a meal, so I don't think I have anything to worry about for now.

"Tifa sure has been getting a lot of attention today," Denzel notes, echoing the thoughts that have been going through my head since this morning.

I exhale slowly, thinking back over the events of the day. There really haven't been that many incidents so far, but it will probably get worse when the men who only come here for a drink start showing up. I know better than to try and step in and start something with one of those guys though, because Tifa is more than able to deal with that herself, and she'll only get upset at me for scaring off her customers. I know Tifa will throw them out if they push her too far, so I just have to try not to worry about it. I have sent a few nasty glares over at the men with obvious intentions of harassing her though, at least when she wasn't looking, and that's usually enough to get them to leave her alone.

Denzel looks up at me, presumably in response to my heavy sigh, and understanding quickly dawns on his face. "Oh," he says, seeming to be piecing it together. "So _that's_ why you're doing your work down here in the bar today."

He doesn't say it like a question, and I can only sigh again. Granted, Denzel is a pretty smart kid, but it's probably still pretty obvious. I turn my attention back to the papers in front of me, but not before reaching over with one hand to ruffle his hair. He tries to swat my hand away in protest, but there's a smile on his face, so I know he really doesn't mind me doing it. We get back to our work then, but this time not in silence, because Denzel launches into a story about what happened while he was at school yesterday. I listen intently, knowing that when I don't make it home until late at night after the kids have gone to bed that they have a tendency to save up their stories for me until the next day.

Denzel is busy telling me about the new class pet his teacher got for them, some sort of tiny, reptilian creature, when I notice a young girl walk into the bar. I soon realize that she is one of Denzel and Marlene's friends; the girl who used to constantly be clinging to an old moogle doll. She spots Denzel after a moment of searching the bar and then comes running towards the booth we're sitting in, with her pigtails bouncing as she moves. Denzel's story comes to a halt when he sees her, but she's the first one to say anything when she reaches us.

"Hi Denzel, hi Cloud," she greets both of us brightly, and her following grin displays the missing tooth on one side of her mouth.

I'm a bit surprised when she calls me by my first name, but I suppose that I probably have Tifa to blame for that. She always asks everyone to just call her by her first name, because she can't stand anyone calling her 'Miss Lockhart', and it really embarrasses when somebody makes the mistake of thinking that she's 'Mrs. Strife'. I'm sort of hoping that her reaction to the latter means that she might like the idea though, because that sounds pretty good to me.

I nod over at the little girl in acknowledgement of her greeting, but I let Denzel be the one to speak up and greet her back.

"Hey Danni," Denzel says, returning her smile.

She and Denzel met when they both were suffering from Geostigma, so I get the feeling that they've probably become pretty close because of that. There are quite a few kids who spend time here playing with Marlene and Denzel, but she seems to be the one who Denzel pays the most attention to.

"Some of the kids from school are starting a kickball game outside," Danni informs us in a rush, and then directs her invitation at Denzel. "You and Marlene should come; you can be on my team!"

Marlene must have somehow overheard this, because she shouts from across the room that she wants to play. I watch as Tifa takes the tray of food that Marlene had been carrying, and when she has it balanced in her hands she calls over for the kids to be safe and to make sure that they come home before it gets dark. Marlene skips away from her to come stand beside Danni; both of them now eagerly waiting for Denzel to confirm that he'll join them too. He wavers for a moment though, looking from the girls to the papers in front of him. I know he feels like he always needs to be doing something to help out around here, so I make the decision for him.

"I can finish this," I tell him, motioning at the paperwork. "Go have fun."

Denzel turns around to flash a grin at me, and then he slides out of the booth and joins the other two children as they rush out the door. Tifa, or at least the strangely blonde version of her that I'm stuck with today, throws me a smile from across the room, and I know that she's silently thanking me for encouraging Denzel to go and play. He has a hard time accepting that he's not all the way grown up yet, so it makes both Tifa and I happy to see him enjoying being a kid.

xXxXx

The rest of the afternoon goes by relatively smoothly, although I still can't help but cringe every time a man who I know isn't one of the regulars walks through the door. Most of our regular customers respect Tifa, or at least know that she's taken, but the men who haven't been to Seventh Heaven before or don't come here very often usually have to learn that lesson the hard way. I try my best to tune out their lecherous comments, but I have to try even harder not to get upset when Tifa isn't nearly as stern with them as I think she should be. Tifa no doubt has a harder time dealing with it than I do though, and I also know that if she was rude to every guy that tried to flirt with her then we wouldn't have much business, so I focus on taking deep breaths and trying to look at this as a lesson in self control.

By the time the sun is beginning to set in the late afternoon, and after I've had to watch dozens of men falling over themselves even more than usual just because Tifa is suddenly blonde, I begin to wonder about just what is wrong with all of them. Are some men so pathetic that they can't help themselves around a woman just because of her hair color? What kind of man is mindless enough to let himself be ruled by something as meaningless as blonde hair?

Right on cue the front door to the bar swings open, and when none other than Reno steps inside, I know instantly that I have that I have my answer to those questions. I've never had a problem with Reno's much quieter partner, Rude, but Reno seems to be here on his own today, which probably means that he'll be even more obnoxious than usual. He should know better than to bother Tifa though, especially while I'm here; I've tossed him out too many times for him to _not _know that by now. However, at the moment Tifa has her back turned away from the front of the bar counter while she's searching through the cupboard for something, and I can tell right away that because he obviously won't recognize her, then there's going to be a problem.

Reno spots Tifa, or rather, the blonde woman that he doesn't know is Tifa, almost as soon as he's through the door, and I can tell by the look on his face that he already has his sights set on her. He saunters over to the counter and takes a seat on one of the barstools, and he doesn't waste any time turning on what I'm sure he believes to be his 'irresistible charm'.

"Hey there, sweet cheeks," Reno purrs over to her, still not having any idea what he's getting himself into. "I didn't know Tifa hired a hot blonde to help her out. How about a drink, Goldilocks?"

He taps his hand on the bar in front of him to make his point about her getting him something to drink, and I have to resist the urge to jump up and throw him out the door this second.

"Watch it, Reno," I practically growl at him; I don't have the patience to deal with his nonsense today.

Reno spins around on the barstool to face me then, looking at me like I've said something completely absurd. "What's your problem, Strife?" he demands of me, taking on a falsely innocent tone of voice and holding his hands up in a sign of surrender. "Come on, it's not like I'm hitting on-"

His speech comes to an abrupt halt when he flips back around and, now that Tifa is facing him, he suddenly realizes who he's been talking to. Tifa has her hands on her hips, like she always does when she's getting ready to scold someone, and she raises one eyebrow at Reno while he stares back at her in shock; a silent dare for him to continue talking to her the way he was and see what happens. He sputters out a hurried apology, trying desperately to backtrack and explain before Tifa decides that she's no longer amused with the situation and is actually angry enough to kick him out.

If I wasn't so irritated today I probably would have laughed at the whole situation, because even though it's annoying, it _is_ rather comical. As it stands right now though, I already feel like I've had a long day, and I'm really not in the mood for this sort of thing. I rub a hand across my face is exasperation, and try desperately to use thoughts about the work in front of me to drown out the sound of Reno's voice.

xXxXx

Fortunately, whether it was from his own personal choice or the embarrassment from the incident when he first showed up, Reno doesn't stay in the bar for long, and he wisely doesn't say another word to Tifa about her hair. By midway through the evening though, I've come to a point where I've finished all of the work for Strife Delivery Service that I can think of to do today. All of my receipts have been sorted, every delivery that I've made for the past month has been accounted for, and I have my entire delivery route for every day next week already planned out.

I offer to help Tifa out around the bar, but she eventually catches on to me giving the more flirty customers death glares, so she shoos me away to find something else to do. As much as I hate to leave her alone, I decide that it's probably better to take the hint and stop interfering with business, so I disappear out into the garage for the second time today. There's really nothing left for me to fix or modify on Fenrir anymore, but I did manage to gather a pretty good coating of dirt from all of my driving last week, so I kill time by first washing all the dirt and debris away and then polishing the surface until I can see my reflection staring back at me in the glossy black paint.

Just as the last of the sunlight is beginning to fade into night, Denzel and Marlene return home, and neither of them waste any time before bounding into the garage with stories for me about their time playing with their friends outside today. They keep me company until it's finally time for Seventh Heaven to close, and when Tifa has all of the customers cleared out and our meal prepared she calls all of us in for dinner. The bar usually closes a few hours later than normal on Fridays and Saturdays, but Tifa always makes sure that we make time to sit down and have dinner together as a family; something that I always look forward to at the end of the day, and something that I really miss on those nights when I don't make it back home until late.

Dinner is a little strange for me tonight though, because I'm not used to sitting across from a blonde. I keep peering over at Tifa, trying to see the woman I know past the drastically different hair color, but it's oddly distracting while I'm trying to hold a conversation with her. I suppose I have to admit that even for as much trouble as it's caused me today, Tifa really doesn't look terrible with her hair like this, although I do still prefer her as a brunette.

During our meal the kids happily reiterate their stories about what happened during the kickball game today to Tifa, who listens and smiles much like I did when they told me about it the first time. It's getting late now though, so after we're all done eating and the dishes have been cleared from the table and placed into the sink to be washed, I go upstairs to take a quick shower while Tifa tries to get the kids into bed. They usually try to push their bedtimes when the bar is open late, but they must have been tired tonight because by the time I reemerge from the bathroom they're both already in their rooms, and from the sound of it probably already asleep.

When I get back downstairs Tifa is in the bar area standing in front of the sink, trying to finish all of the dishes not only from our dinner but from the bar's customers as well. I've really managed to wear myself out today, even if it _was_ mostly from unnecessary worry over Tifa's blonde escapade, but she's been on her feet for nearly the whole day, so she's probably even more tired than I am. I'm sure that she must have heard me come down the stairs, and we've been through this enough times on nights like this that I know she must be expecting what I'm going to say when I reach her, but she still makes no motion to move away from the sink.

I approach her from behind, my arms winding around her middle as I rest my chin on her shoulder. Tifa pauses her dish washing and leans back against me, both of us simply enjoying the silence for the moment. She makes a little noise of protest when I reach for her forearms though; grabbing hold of them and lifting her hands out of the soapy water in the sink. She turns her head to look at me then, with her eyebrows pinching together in a frown.

"_Cloud_," Tifa says my name in an exaggerated tone, knowing I'll understand that she's objecting to what I'm asking her for.

She always tries to do way too much work around here, and even when she's exhausted she can't seem to allow herself to leave dirty dishes in the sink, but I'm not having that tonight.

"Go take a shower," I tell her, holding contact with her eyes as she stares me down with halfhearted defiance. My voice is soft, but I say it firmly so she won't try to argue with me about it.

Tifa lets out a little huff in defeat, apparently realizing that I'm not going to budge on this tonight, and she turns away from me before grabbing a dish rag to wipe her wet hands on. I remove my arms from around her so she is able to move freely, and as she steps aside I trade places with her so that I'm now the one standing in front of the sink. Before I have a chance to take over where she left off with the dishes though, Tifa grabs hold of my cheek and pulls my face down towards her so she can give me a quick kiss on the lips; her way of thanking me for forcing her to relax. Of course, the main reason why I do these sort of things for her is because I want her to be able to take a break, but on this particular night I'm also anxious for her to go wash that blonde dye out of her hair; I'm ready to have my Tifa back.

With that, Tifa turns and heads for the stairs, and I try to refocus on the task in front of me. It doesn't take me long to finish up the leftover dishes, and I have them all washed, dried and put away before Tifa returns from her shower. I remember her saying that it was supposed to take ten washes before the dye would come out though, so I can't imagine how long that's going to take her. Tifa and I usually stay up for a little while after the kids have gone to bed anyway, because that's usually the only time we get to ourselves, so I decide to go and try to find something to watch while I wait for her on the living room couch.

There's really nothing much ever on TV besides the news, so I spend most of my time flipping idly through the channels until, nearly an hour later, I finally hear the bathroom door open upstairs. Soon after it's followed by the sound of Tifa's bare feet tiptoeing down the stairs, and she finds me in the living room easily. I'm almost afraid to look at her at first, for fear that maybe that dye might not have been as temporary as she thought it was, but when I finally convince myself to glance over at her I let out a breath of air that I didn't know I was holding. Tifa's hair is damp, but it's back to her normal dark color, and for the first time today she finally looks like herself.

"Well you certainly look relieved," she observes as she plops down on the couch next to me, looking like she's fighting to keep an amused smile at bay.

I can only sigh in response; I've probably been acting like an uptight psycho all day.

"Was it really that bad?" she asks, looking at me more seriously now.

I consider this for a moment before answering as I try to decide on how to word it. "I guess it really didn't _look _bad," I admit, trying to figure out what it was about the change that bothered me so much. "But I don't think I could handle being with a blonde all the time."

Although I say it seriously, the corner of my mouth turns up into a half smile at the end, and Tifa looks a lot more at ease now that I'm not acting so bothered by the whole thing. She laughs pleasantly, and then leans back on the couch so she can make herself comfortable against my side. I move my arm from the back of the couch down to rest around her shoulders, and I let my eyes slide closed for a moment as I really begin to feel the effects of the long day.

Tifa exhales deeply, and when she speaks up again her voice is quiet. "You don't have to worry about being with a blonde anymore," she starts, pausing to let out a little yawn before she finishes her sentence. "There's no way I'd want that kind of attention all the time."

"You get too much attention anyway," I mutter under my breath.

Of course, Tifa is sitting so close to me that she hears every word of that, but when she pulls back so she can look at me there's a smile on her lips. I meet her halfway when she leans in towards me this time, and in this moment that we have all to ourselves and all the time in the world, her mouth lingers on mine. Today may have been hectic, but right now all that worry over Tifa turning herself into a blonde and having to deal with all of those men seems like something very distant. Tifa has a way of changing my perspective like that though, and I definitely don't mind.

**The End**

**(A/N) **I used to color my hair a lot in junior high and in the beginning of high school, but I'm not completely sure if a dark brunette could temporarily dye her hair blond, since lightening your hair color is usually dependent on bleach, which is pretty much permanent… Bleh, forget the specifics! I'll just say that maybe there's some kind of do-anything dye in the FFVII world. ;) Oh, and something worth noting is that I haven't been making a bunch of random spelling changes to the word 'blonde' throughout this story on accident. According to several dictionaries that I've looked it up in, the spelling 'blonde' is feminine, and 'blond' is masculine, so I've tried to be very careful to use the right one for the situation. Hopefully I'm not horribly mistaken. O_o

Anyhow, leave me a review if you wish; I'd love to know what you think. :3

-punkiemonkie


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